Banditry
by stabatmater
Summary: Modern AU. Robin is up to no good on the streets of London, but picks the wrong person. Or does he? (Rated M just to be safe.)


_**A/N:** Wow, it has been a while since I've posted anything on here._

 _Background story is a little hazy, but eh. Maybe something to explore if I decide to continue with this._

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

There's something breath-taking about the girl, Robin thinks as he watches her from the shadows. She's not beautiful, he wouldn't say that. Too bony, lithe, pale and ginger – but the streetlamps and her quick, sliding movements remind him of quicksilver. And she holds herself like royalty, a haughty expression on her face and her back very straight. Her shoulders are squared. She looks courageous, and she has to be, walking alone through the backstreets of London at night. Then again, this part of London is not necessarily known for high crime rates.

Which is exactly what Robin is counting on.

He leaves his spot and follows her soundlessly. The map of the area is ingrained in his memory. He manages to slip through a few back alleys and ends up in front of where she currently is. He leans against the stone fencepost, waiting for her to walk by.

Light steps come closer and he can smell her perfume – heliotrope, Loveday used to have the same a few years ago.

Robin lunges at her, slings one arm around her arms and waist and covers her mouth with the other hand as he pulls her back into the alley.

"Shhh, Princess", he whispers into her ear, voice even more muffled by his scarf. "Just keep still and do as I say, and I'll let you go in a minute –"

A searing pain on the back of his hand makes him jerk his arm back and she wriggles out of his grip, but instead of running, she jumps back and clenches her fists as if she wants to fight him – not that he's going to fight her, Robin realises, as he stares at his hand. There is a long cut on the back, blood gushing forward. No wonder it hurts so badly.

"Fucking hell!"

"Oh, god", the girl says, an odd combination of shock, worry and anger in her voice. "You're bleeding badly."

"Yeah", Robin hisses through clenched teeth. "Thanks."

"Sorry." She tucks away – her keys? Was it that which cut him? –, and unclenches her fists.

Robin throws his head back and laughs, even though he is still in pain. "I attack you and you apologise?"

"Shut up, you oaf", she says. "Are you going to assault me again or will you let me look at that cut?"

"Are you a doctor or something, Princess?" The nickname is fitting.

She gives him a disapproving look. He stretches out his hand, wincing.

"Not going to assault you. It's bloody painful. Actually, it's bloody, period."

"You're an idiot." She pulls out a clean tissue and dabs at the blood. "That needs a bandage, at the very least."

"I'll go past a hospital on my way back." Robin tries to pull back his hand but the girl grabs him by his sleeve.

"No, no. You'll come with me, I'll bind your hand, and then you can explain to me what it is you wanted from me."

"Then you'll call the police, you mean."

She throws him a scornful look. "Maybe. That depends on what you tell me."

"I'll make an effort to be really sweet then, Princess", Robin says and grins.

As he follows the girl, he thinks that this is madness – going to the place of someone he was going to rob? Is he mental? But he can't help it, his hand is throbbing with pain and the girl offered to help in that oddly authoritative manner which she expresses in the rigidity of her posture and the cool gaze of her silver-grey eyes.

She unlocks the front door of a house barely fifty metres away. It's a proper posh house like the others in this street, with black cast-iron staircase railings, fancy thick carpets, and huge decorative vases with half-dried flowers in them. The vestibule is dark but light shines from under two doors. Robin can hear a TV or radio playing somewhere.

"Your parents at home, Princess?"

She turns around and glares at his grin before she motions for him to be quiet. They sneak up the stairs. The girl dashes into what must be a bathroom, and returns with a first-aid kit and some towels. She ushers Robin into a room further down the hallway.

This one is a bedroom, and clearly hers. It's fairly tidy, but one or two pieces of clothing, the line of (surprisingly sturdy) shoes, and the little bottles on the honest-to-god dressing table indicate that this is a young woman's room. The ceiling captures Robin's attention: It's deep azure blue, and has constellations painted on it. They sparkle in the faint light of the girl's desk lamp.

She pulls up the desk chair. "Sit down. You might want to take the jacket off."

Amused, Robin obliges. He also takes off his hat and pulls down the black scarf which hid the lower half of his face. He drapes the jacket over the back of the chair and turns around again, facing the girl who is now sitting opposite him on her bed. She has a small bottle of disinfectant spray in her hand.

"Let me see."

Robin holds out his hand. She takes one of the small towels – it's damp, and the blood comes off quickly. She is careful not to touch the cut, at first. The disinfectant spray stings, but Robin doesn't wince anymore, he's too tired.

"Oh, good", she says as she cleans the wound with a separate cloth. "It's hardly bleeding anymore. Here –" she hands him the cloth, "– press it down for a moment, I need to get the salve."

And she's gone, leaving Robin alone in her room. Robin, who previously assaulted her.

He's beginning to think that it's not him who's mental.

He leans his head back, taking in the constellations at the ceiling again. He finds his quickly – Leo. (He has a tattoo of it on his calf.)

Robin gets up and looks around the room. Bed, desk, dressing table, large wardrobe, impressive bookshelf. Floral wallpaper. There are a few pictures on her desk, and he goes to look at them. Most of them show the girl with her friends, one shows an older woman who looks at the camera like someone in those sepia photographs from ye olden times. Two pictures feature two dogs – a tiny, fat King Charles spaniel, and a massive one that resembles a lion rather than a dog. And then there's one with a black ribbon on the frame – it shows a man with curly copper hair and a woman with the girl's thin smile.

Parents. Oh, damn.

The door opens and the girl comes in, raising a brow at Robin who quickly sits down again.

"Have you been snooping around?"

"You left me alone in here even though I attacked you, Princess", Robin points out with a smirk.

She grabs his hand a little rougher than necessary, and starts applying some thick, white salve to the cut. "It's Maria", she says. "And just so you know, I'm a veterinary student, not a doctor."

"Maria", he repeats. "Should I be trusting you if you mostly treat animals?"

She lets out a very un-ladylike snort. "If anyone should be doubting their trust here, it's me. Hold still, idiot, you're not much different from a feral animal."

"Robin", he blurts out.

Maria arches her brow. "Well, can't say I've ever treated a robin before, but I had a chicken with a broken wing last week."

He laughs at that and she winces.

"Shhhh. My uncle is watching one of his historical documentaries, but he might still hear you."

"Aren't you allowed to bring boys home?" Robin winks at her. She avoids his eyes and puts the salve away.

"We need to let that be absorbed for a moment before I can apply the bandage."

Robin leans back. "So…"

"So", Maria interrupts him coolly, "it would be very kind of you if you could explain to me what you were going to do to me."

He smirks a little. "Is this an interrogation?"

"You owe me that much."

She has a point. Robin stretches his legs and sighs. "Money. Simple, Princess."

"Money?" Maria sounds incredulous.

"Yes, money. Not all people have enough."

She scrutinises him. "Pardon me, you don't look like you're lacking."

Robin huffs and feels the urge to put his hat back on. This is not something he likes to talk about – but he does owe Maria, and he doesn't want her to call the police.

"It's an initiation rite thing", he explains. "Anyone can mug someone in Camden, you know, child's play. It's a bit harder in the nice streets of Kensington. It's a test for…well, acolytes." He says the last word with a crooked grin, and Maria picks up on it.

"Acolytes? Of whom, or what?"

Robin shakes his head. "I can't tell you that, Princess. For your safety as well as my own."

He sees Maria shiver and grins.

"So…you are a proper…bandit?"

Robin sighs and gestures with his sound hand. "I'm not very good at it, obviously. And I messed up my initiation tonight, didn't I."

Maria tilts her head to one side. "I hope you're not blaming me for that."

He grins again. "Well…I kind of do. But it's fine. I'll just have to mug someone else next time, I guess."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that", Maria says pointedly and reaches for the bandages. "Your hand."

While she wraps the bandage around his fingers and palm, Robin looks at her anew. Quicksilver and copper, her reddish curls fall around her pale, narrow face. Her nose is scrunched up in concentration and her eyes are dark as she focuses on her task. She still holds herself like a princess but the haughty look is gone. He can imagine her tending to an animal quite vividly.

Before he can stop himself, Robin asks, "Why are you doing this?"

"I cut you, didn't I."

"Because I assaulted you. You weren't obliged to care."

"Yes, but unlike you, I'm a good person."

Robin ducks his head to see her face better. She raises her gaze defiantly. He smirks.

"Is that it? You're usually such a good girl that this is your idea of an adventure – inviting a mugger to your house?"

She blushes but shrugs and tucks the tied ends of the bandage in at his wrist. "It's hardly worse than your idea of fun, is it?"

"Oooh", Robin crows in a low voice. "Did it make your heart beat faster, sneaking me in past your uncle? Does it excite you that he could come up the stairs and find me here? Some street bandit in a leather jacket sitting in his proper girl's room?"

Maria glares at him. Her posture has lost some of the rigidity, she reminds him more of a wild animal ready to attack. "Shut your mouth."

"It does, doesn't it?" Robin laughs gleefully. "You like the feeling of doing something so _illicit_."

She glares at him some more, then turns away abruptly and scoops up the first-aid kit and towels. "I'll put these in the washing machine. Can't have anyone see your blood on the towels."

"Sure, Princess", he drawls. "I'm not going anywhere."

She steps over his legs and tosses him a water bottle on her way out. "Drink that, you lost a lot of blood."

Robin sits in the half-light of her room and feels slightly dazed. He empties half of the bottle and stretches in Maria's desk-chair. Admittedly, he is not looking forward to leaving this room. He can't go back home before he has completed his initiation, and the autumn fogs are especially damp these days.

Damn his father and the Blackhearts' stupid codex of honour. Being a member of the biggest street gang in Hackney has its perks, sure, but sometimes Robin wishes his family was normal. Loveday, his sister, has managed to get away, kind of. She has a flower shop somewhere in the West Country. Moving to the country is not an option for Robin, though; he loves London too much, its addictive buzz, the streets full of people, the recklessness and ruthlessness.

He hears quick steps in the hallway and gets up, suddenly alert. The door opens and Maria slips into the room. She quickly closes the door and turns the key, slowly, with both hands so as to prevent any noise. She listens. A heavier set of steps is approaching. Maria darts towards Robin and claps a hand over his mouth. "Not a word!"

They both listen as the steps stop on the other side of the door. There is a hesitant knock, and a deep voice asks, "Maria?"

Maria holds her breath. After a few moments, the steps continue. Robin can almost hear the uncle's shrug.

They keep standing there while Maria's uncle moves about the hallway, opening doors and going to the bathroom and whatnot. He passes by their door several times. Maria seems paralysed, but Robin is getting impatient.

He takes the hand that covers his mouth and moves it down a bit, muttering under his breath, "This is exciting, isn't it? The slightest noise, and he would notice that you're not alone."

When Maria merely narrows her eyes and doesn't pay attention, he continues.

"Ah, but we've already established that you like that. The thrill of potentially being caught –"

The rest of his sentence is cut off as she kisses him. Her lips press softly against his and the hand he was holding grabs his scarf, holding him in place.

Robin is surprised, but definitely interested. He moves the bandaged hand to her waist and pulls her closer. Her eyelids flutter, then close. Her lips move more fervently and her teeth graze his bottom lip. Robin darts his tongue out, swiping across her lips, and her mouth opens ever so slightly. He hears her gasp, and swallows the sound as he licks into her mouth.

They move backwards until the hollows of Maria's knees press against her bed. She leans back and sits on the mattress, pulling Robin down with her. With a swift, soundless motion, he picks her up and turns them around so that he is the one sitting on the bed and she is straddling him, her knees on either side of his thighs.

(If she decides to bolt, he'd rather not be in her way.)

A door slams and Maria listens up, but when it stays quiet, she relaxes into Robin's embrace. He grins and gently tugs at a strand of her curls.

"What is this, Princess?" he whispers. "Is it actually making you –"

"Only way to shut you up", Maria gasps and kisses him again. Her other hand comes up to grip Robin's brown curls. He pulls away and starts trailing kisses along her jaw, her neck, lightly sucking on the hollow beneath her collarbone. Maria whimpers. Robin moves his lips up again, closing her mouth with his because they have to be quiet – and oh, now he's hard.

He has a breath-taking, wonderfully bold girl in his lap. Can you blame him? But he pulls away further, admiring Maria's shiny wet lips and stormy eyes for a moment before wriggling backwards a bit.

"Maria, Princess, wait –"

"Oh", she breathes.

And rolls her hips.

Robin sucks in the air as her body moves against his. "Heavens, stop!"

She holds still for a moment and meets his eyes. "Do you not want to…?"

Robin suppresses a huff. "Of course I want to. I thought that was obvious."

"Well then." Maria smiles, for the first time he's known her, and she looks downright mischievous. "Do you happen to have any condoms with you?"

"I do, but…wait, do you want this?"

She rolls her eyes. "I've come this far with the stranger who wanted to mug me. Might as well."

He grins at that and leans back until he is lying on the bed, pulling her down with him. "I like the way you think."

"Hmm." And her lips are on his again, soft and wet and hungry. Robin grabs her hair properly and pulls her impossibly close, groaning quietly when she moves one leg between his.

* * *

The stars on Maria's ceiling twinkle again as the first rays of grey morning light sneak in through the curtains. Robin stretches his arms, suppressing a satisfied groan. Maria lies next to him, her back flush against his side. Now she rolls on her stomach, and raises her head to blink at him dazedly.

"You're still there."

"Uh-huh." He sits up, careful not to pull the blanket away from her. "I have to go, though."

Maria glances at her clock. "My uncle should be gone by now. I think you can safely use the bathroom."

"That's a very polite way of telling me that I reek of sex, Princess." He grins. Maria retaliates by looking him up and down – mostly down.

"Well. I would hope you do."

Robin thinks about this sentence while he showers and gets dressed. Maria waits downstairs. She offers him a bottle of water when he comes down. It's a ridiculously practical gesture, and Robin is grateful. He'd be lying if he said last night hadn't been physically demanding.

"Princess…"

"You could use the back door?" Maria suggests, not meeting his eyes. "I'll show you the way."

Robin follows her down the hallway. At the door, he stops her. "Maria. I don't know how or why all of this happened, but I really enjoyed last night. And I'm grateful for the medical aid, and for you not calling the police."

She grins a little at that and quickly touches his arm. "Don't let me read about you in a crime report."

Robin laughs. "Avoid Camden, and you'll be safe from me."

"Ah." Maria opens the door, letting him pass. "But maybe I don't want that."

The last thing Robin sees before the door closes is that daring smile of hers, and the quicksilver in her eyes.


End file.
